Chapter 129: Taking a Detour

Jack eventually settled for dinner at a Mexican restaurant. The beef gravy tacos and Sonoran hot dogs were decent, but he was surprised at how much Mexicans enjoyed cilantro, aside from their love for chili peppers.

Considering that most of the southern states border Mexico, he anticipated he would continue to be assaulted by cilantro in the future.

After a good night's sleep at the motel, Jack extended his stay for another night and then drove to the northern outskirts of Tucson. Here stood a peculiar collection of structures composed of variously shaped steel and glass buildings, resembling gigantic greenhouses.

This was the famous "Biosphere II," often glamorized by popular literature and media as the "Recreating Earth Experiment."

Much like the world Jack came from, the "Biosphere II" in this universe also failed. It is now owned by the University of Arizona, serving as an ecological research and teaching facility, and a popular tourist attraction.

To Jack, this 1.3-hectare greenhouse was a meaningful "small wonder," similar to the moon landing project, representing a golden era for the USA.

After spending two hours exploring the artificial environments within "Biosphere II" and fulfilling a childhood fantasy, Jack drove on towards the southeastern suburbs of Tucson.

Next, he aimed to satisfy a youthful dream: watching planes.

This took him to a vast 12-square-kilometer airfield, home to over 20,000 aircraft. From the B-17 Flying Fortress to the F-117 and the F-14, it was the world's largest and only aircraft boneyard.

Jack spent the entire day here, indulging his passion for planes until nightfall, before reluctantly heading back to Tucson.

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The following day, Jack left Tucson and drove to Las Cruces, a small city in New Mexico, taking one day to reach there. After a night's rest, he continued his journey but decided to leave the Interstate 10 and take Highway 54 north instead.

His next stop was Alamogordo, the site of the world's first nuclear explosion. Though Jack didn't feel much connection to the USA's atomic milestones, he chose this route to cross the Lincoln National Forest and head towards Roswell, a town famous for UFOs.

In truth, Jack wasn't particularly interested in aliens. He mainly wanted to relive a childhood dream and bring back some UFO-themed souvenirs for his friends in LA. After all, even Americans who love vacationing don't usually venture to such desolate parts of New Mexico.

However, twenty minutes after leaving Alamogordo, he encountered trouble ahead.

"Hey, buddy, what's going on up there?"

Growing impatient after an hour of waiting, Jack got out of his car and walked a short distance to ask a truck driver who was also stuck in traffic. American truckers usually have radios for dispatching and chatting on long hauls, so they are well-informed about road conditions.

"Train derailed five kilometers ahead. Chemicals spilled everywhere."

The trucker, though looking helpless, seemed somewhat accustomed to such situations.

"Any idea how long it'll be?"

Jack was getting frustrated. With Roswell nearly 200 kilometers away and no other towns nearby, he was wondering if he should turn back.

"At least a few hours. Are you in a hurry?"

The truck driver, somewhat shabby in appearance, surprisingly turned out to be quite friendly.

"Your car looks good. You could turn back about ten kilometers and take a small road that leads to Highway 380."

"Thanks, buddy." Jack retrieved two bottles of water, a small bag of bread, and some oranges from his car and handed them to the truck driver.

"Be careful on the forest road. I hear it's not very safe."

The helpful truck driver leaned out of his cab and shouted a warning.

"Got it. Thanks again." Jack waved and returned to his car, making a U-turn.

After only a few minutes of driving back, he spotted a dirt road ahead. He stopped at the intersection and checked his phone's GPS. No signal, no internet, and even the GPS signal was flickering. The offline map didn't show this road at all.

During this trip, Jack had experienced firsthand how poor the infrastructure in the USA could be. Mobile networks were particularly unreliable; leaving urban areas often meant losing signal entirely.

Sighing, Jack equipped his FK7.5 pistol along with the underarm holster Hannah had made for him. He donned a light jacket to conceal it and stashed three spare magazines in his belt. After a moment's thought, he also packed two boxes of bullets into his hiking bag on the back seat.

It wasn't cowardice. Though he hated horror movies and never watched a single one, American road horror movies were too famous. Watching clips online, he knew he had to be prepared. If he encountered anything like that, he wanted to be ready.

Releasing the handbrake, Jack drove the Firebird forward cautiously, keeping his speed around 45 kilometers per hour and carefully observing his surroundings.

Five minutes later, he came upon a dilapidated tin shack with an old trailer behind it. Jack stopped his car and looked to the right. This place seemed like it might be a gas station?

Near the road stood a rusty, barely recognizable gas pump. An old man, as filthy and rundown as the surroundings, sat by the shack's door, grinning at him with a few rotten teeth showing.

Jack didn't get out. He just looked around briefly before continuing on his way. His gas tank was full, and he had two spare cans in the trunk, enough to get him to Texas.

After driving for another ten minutes, he saw a fork in the road. This place didn't even have a signpost. Jack got out to inspect and regretted taking this detour.

It wasn't the thought of deranged killers or something like that. He could handle a chainsaw-wielding maniac with a single shot or two. His real concern was his condition. If something scared him into a state of frenzy, would he really have to rely on playing League of Legends to calm down afterward?

Deciding that the fresher-looking tire tracks on the left road might mean recent traffic, Jack chose to go left, hoping to meet someone for guidance.

Maintaining his cautious speed, Jack drove through the forest. As he delved deeper, the dense canopy blocked more sunlight, and the temperature dropped from the sweltering thirties to a cooler twenty degrees. The cool forest breeze reinvigorated him.

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